


And Then There Was One

by Riagin



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riagin/pseuds/Riagin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU after 2.30<br/>Carmilla knew what she had to do now. Now that she was alone. Now that she was the last of her family left alive. Now that hate fueled her for the first time since Ell’s death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then There Was One

**Author's Note:**

> Let it be known that I don't hate Laura; Carmilla is just currently in a dangerous mindset fueled by rage, guilt, and grief. I also don't blame any one character for the events that have transpired, they've all dealt with their problems rather badly and it has all built up to this latest heart wrenching episode.  
> I also don't buy that Carmilla didn't have any kind of familial love towards her mother and Will. She seems like the kind of person who wouldn't let anyone, especially the person that was the indirect (or direct) cause of their deaths, that she was internally grieving for her messed up family. The long life of a vampire gives them more than enough time to develop complicated relationships with each other.

She left the house, _her mother’s house_ , half blinded by rage and grief but knowing exactly where she had to go. Whoever killed the six Summer Society girls had done her a favor as she was able to walk out in the open in her steady pace without worry of being attacked; Vordenberg’s minions were staying away from them for the moment. Then again, maybe they had done it to spite her as she wanted nothing more than the small satisfaction of ripping out the throat of anyone stupid enough to attack her right now.

She was alone. No girlfriend harping about her current crusade. No mother scolding her for her latest act of rebellion. No brother smirking at her before giving her an almost affectionate shoulder bump. No sister making teasing remarks as they went out to have fun. The amount of pain and hate suffocating her was even worse than when Mother had buried her alive.

She was a silly child then, falling for a girl who she couldn’t even think about telling her secret to. Mattie had laughed at her affections, told her to grow up and open her eyes. Humans would never understand them. Ell had proven that point by calling her a monster and turning away from her, right into death’s clutches. And Mother had punished Carmilla by putting her in a coffin, drenching it in blood, and burying her. At least at that time she had the knowledge that everyone had abandoned her to cling on to. All those years in that horrible coffin, going mad with hunger and heartbreak, she thought about how everyone had betrayed her as a way to keep at least a sliver of her sanity intact.

And now, decades later, she still hadn’t learned anything.

Except that now she knew that it was all her own damn fault. She was no longer a child that could throw blame on everyone else. She was the one foolish enough to give up everything for a small chance at a hopeless love. She was the one idiotic enough to trust in a nineteen year old girl who was so obviously selfish that you would have to be blind not to see it. She was the one with the blood of her family on her hands.

Her family.

They were all dead now.

Because of her.

Will. Her stupid annoying brother that she didn’t even get to see die. Sure Will was a mama’s boy and grabbed every chance he could to taunt Carmilla, but he was still her brother. Her little brother. The brother that she had met after Mother had brought her back into the fold. She could remember the newly turned vampire, wide eyed and fumbling about. Mother hadn’t given him the same luxurious introduction that she had given Carmilla, and Mattie had been distant with him, unwilling to get close to another sibling. So Carmilla took it upon herself to teach him the way she had been taught, or as close to it as a cynical, rebellious, inpatient vampire could. She remembered how his blue eyes would look at her with admiration, and how happy he was that she would take the time to teach him.

She also remembered those same eyes turning cold as Will realized that she was Mother’s favorite and nothing he could do would ever be good enough for her. His admiration became envy and happiness became bitter competitiveness. He was undoubtedly Mother’s most loyal child, but still the older vampire barely paid him any mind. There was a lot of animosity between the two of them, but there were also the bonds of family. After all, she had had let him escape from her after he had threatened Laura in the dorm room as she had been unwilling to physically hurt him anymore. And when Laura had kicked her out for making a deal with Mother, Will had been waiting outside the building with a bag that held a change of clothes and a container of blood. He had given her a resigned look before walking away without saying the word. The next time she had seen her brother, his blue eyes had been glassy and a stake had been stabbed through his chest. She had pushed any emotions about him deep down as she couldn’t let them distract her and cause her to falter at the wrong moment.

And then they had desecrated his body. The mad scientist had picked up her brother’s body, shoved the conscious of a softhearted fool into it, and let it make a mockery of Will’s memory. How was she supposed to react to that but to pretend that she didn’t care? Pretend that Will hadn’t been anything else but another vampire she hadn’t particularly liked but worked with. Hadn’t been the little brother she had cared for even if neither of them had shown it in years now. Will was dead, his body used, and Carmilla had practically given the curly ginger the weapon to make it happen.

_Be good for me, Carmilla._

Then there was Maman. Her cruel manipulative mother that spoke words of adoration to her children even as she punished them for doing something that she didn’t like. It had been Maman who had given her a second chance at life back at that ball where she had been brutally murdered. Had turned her into a vampire and opened up the world to her. Had shown her how to be strong in both body and mind. Maman, who had indulged Carmilla in everything from literature to art to rabid murder sprees. The woman had picked up a short sighted little rich girl and shaped her into a beautifully deadly weapon. A weapon who she had affectionately called her favorite child.

Carmilla remembered having fun at first with the game; Mother had been so very amused at just how good she was at it. She didn’t care why her mother needed those five random girls every twenty years, after all who was she to question the woman she owed her undead life to. And then there was the mess with Ell, and her mother, the woman she appreciated with her entire being, left her to rot as punishment for trying to run away. Carmilla would never forgive Maman for that, anger festered even after she cowardly rejoined her mother. She would act out, like a teenager who dragged their feet, but would eventually continue the game anyway. Mother would scold her gently, looking very much like the parent of said teenager. The worst part was that even under the anger for her mother, she knew that she still loved the woman, still would come whenever the woman called. It wasn’t just fear of being punished again that had her hesitating when Laura was determined to face Maman, it was the fear of Laura somehow succeeding and killing the woman who had been her parent for over three centuries.

Because Maman was a horrible person, there was no doubt about that. Manipulating everyone she could and making sure that things would always work out in her favor. Controlling through fear and eliminating anything that she deemed an annoyance. But she was also the same woman who had sung Carmilla foreign lullabies during her first years as a vampire that she had nightmares of her death. The mother whose eyes would flash with warmth for a split second when scolding her insubordinate children. The very last memory Carmilla had of her mother was the woman’s furious face turning into the smile of a proud parent who had just seen her child accomplish something great. Even if Laura had been the one who had given Maman the final shove into that pit, it had been Carmilla that had fought the woman to that edge and caused her death.

_Change for me, Carmilla._

Mattie. Smart, deadly, fun Mattie who had been her best friend and older sister for three hundred years. The sister that had looked at silly little Mircalla and helped bring out the confident and unstoppable force that she always knew the younger girl could be. Mother had given Mircalla strength, but it was Mattie that had given her life. Mattie was always there to soothe away the pain that Mother left after brutal training with glasses of deliciously fresh blood and witty banter. Her sister showed her that vampires had no limits, that they were the ones who were really in charge as long as they were subtle about it. Mattie had taught Carmilla that as long as you showed everyone you were in the one in control, they could never make you do anything against your will. Well, everyone except Mother.

It wasn’t until she had come back from her stay in the coffin that Carmilla noticed that even though Mattie was an amazing sister, it didn’t mean she was always right. She had noticed that Mattie’s solution to everything was to rip it apart and force the aftermath in your favor; no doubt something she had adopted after spending centuries with Mother. As Carmilla found herself growing with resentment for the vampire lifestyle, she found herself disagreeing more and more with the sister she had once thought could do no wrong. As if she could feel the growing emotional distance, Mattie left for longer and longer periods, leaving the game to Carmilla and Will and taking care of the more interacted details of whatever it was their mother planned. They never talked about it, but both of them knew that a part of Carmilla would never forget that Mattie had let Mother bury her and then just left her there for decades, never once speaking up for her foolish little sister.

That’s not to say that Carmilla didn’t love Mattie; because despite everything, Mattie was still her best friend and closest family member. The way Laura and her goon squad were so determined to find fault in her older sister bothered Carmilla greatly, but she couldn’t find the will to be able to speak up much in Mattie’s defense, despite not agreeing at all with Laura. She knew that the only thing holding Mattie back from slaughtering the whole group of idiots was the fact that she didn’t want to cause her little sister that much grief again; but they both knew that it was only a matter a time before she snapped under the endless accusations. So Carmilla trusted Laura with her closest kept secret, just in case. To think that it would end up with Carmilla holding her sister’s motionless body because the foolish girl had told the vindictive giant how to kill Mattie. She hated them, both of them. But she hated herself even more, for if she had been half as a good a sister as Mattie was, she would have never have brought the older girl’s death.

_Burn down everything you’ve ever loved for me, Carmilla._

Carmilla had made it to the pit; the Angler Fish was right in her grasp. She slowly took the steps down towards the demi-god, her body practically trembling with fury as she continued to think about those _children_.

They had called them monsters. How dare they look in the mirror and be proud of their accomplishments when they murdered people who continuously said they were innocent of a crime. There was never any proof that Mattie had killed anyone, but whenever she tried to explain they waved it off as if they were already sure of her guilt.

It was time to show them what real monsters looked like.

Her fangs elongated and she bit right into the side of the so-called Dark One. The blood was thick and tasted off; it took all her willpower not to choke on it as she greedily drank as much as she could.

_I’m going to carve a red swathe through your army._

She tore herself away from the fish as she felt the thick blood pumping through her veins. It had been a messy meal; dark blood coated her chin, down her throat, onto her shirt, and dripped onto the floor.

_I’m going to drink this nation dry._

Her body burned. All her hate and grief seem to multiply and cloud her mind, filling it with nothing but the need for vengeance.

_I am death on dark wings._

Her body shifted into her panther form. Or at least it was supposed to be her panther form, but it was bigger, more vicious looking as the dark blood powered it.

_You want to blame me for carnage-_

Her vision was going hazy, she could see the shadows of people nearby but couldn’t differentiate if they were the unfortunately mind controlled, the steroid pumped goons on patrol, or just normal students that had ventured too close to the pit. Not that it made a difference. Carmilla was gone, this was just a vessel filled the hatred of a dead family.

_I’ll show you carnage._

The panther leapt onto the closest shadow, teeth tearing into soft flesh. And all that mattered was the hot red color that filled its vision.


End file.
